Burners
by pants2match
Summary: She hadn't bought a burner in years. Well, that was a lie. [The Crossing through Lauren]


Emily Prentiss hadn't bought a burner in years. Well, no, she hadn't _used_ a burner in years.

At various points of her life, paranoia would overcome her. Her life was too routine; she went to work, she came home, she bought groceries and wine, and sometimes more clothes and shoes than she could justify, but it was always the same. The same stores, the same routes, the same car–she's not built for this kind of life, or at least her mind isn't.

Knowing she was supposed to be dead did nothing to help ease that part of her.

—

Keri had triggered something.

Being stalked for years across the country by an amateur had taken such an incredible toll.

Hicks had been a delusional. Keri was lucky, in that respect. If he were to get her alone, all she had to do was play along. With Emily, there's no way she could keep herself alive. They would destroy her. They would torture her, and if she did not submit, torture her family.

So, she bought the phone on her way home, citing Sod's Law to herself from the moment she picked it up in the gas station, the moment she paid for it (cash, of course), and the entire drive home.

If she has the phone, she won't need it. If she doesn't have the phone she will.

(She'd told JJ Keri was going to be okay, she was sure of that; Hicks was in custody, it stopped there.)

—

Then came Foyet.

His goal wasn't to kill Hotch. His goal was to watch him suffer. Watch him break, watch everyone around him find out that he's not invincible. That he's week. What George Foyet wanted was break him, his body, his mind. His soul.

As she watched Hayley and Jack be escorted out of the hospital and out of Hotch's life for God knows how long, she knew this wasn't going to end anytime soon.

She activated the phone the next day.

It was a start, at least. Hotch was being tormented by his own demon, and to be able to help him, she had to make sure she could let go of hers; if she was constantly looking over her shoulder, she couldn't look over his.

Right now Hotch needs someone.

He was being tormented by a demon that had already taken so much from him, and Emily had some insight into that feeling.

She activates the phone that night.

If she's going to be looking over his shoulder at every turn, she needs some semblance of security in herself.

—

Seeing Jack in his little suit had pushed her over the edge.

She'd almost told JJ that night coming back from Nashville. Almost came clean about JTF-12. Almost told her that if anything happened, she'd be who they'd come after.

(That they would've been watching her for weeks, months even. That they'd know who she was, know what she means to her. That these people were trained to figure out how to hurt their targets, to get whatever they needed out of them. That they were profilers.)

She didn't though. JJ needed to get back home to Henry, she didn't need this on her mind. God, the only reason she had to tell her was because she was in direct danger, just by being close to her.

Emily gives her the number though, just says she's feeling paranoid (it's ambiguous enough. "You came off a desk job" was a lie and JJ knew that by now).

JJ understands, Emily had all but moved in with Hotch after his attack, and she couldn't do anything to stop Hayley being killed, couldn't even make sure Jack was safe.

—

It's JJ who comes to her.

She'd been good. For months now Emily had been okay, better than okay. She'd been going out, she'd moved, she'd got a cat.

And then JJ gets poached by the DOD.

"I need you to tell me whatever it is you want to tell me,"

JJ was standing in her doorway at six on a Thursday night asking her to—

"The burner, Emily." She steps aside and JJ walks in, suddenly timid.

She'd been like steel when Emily had answered the door.

Any other night she would've dropped her briefcase the moment she stepped through the door and grabbed their glasses (there were only two of the set left, one had broken in the move, the other a helpless victim of young Sergio), meeting Emily in the lounge the moment she popped the cork.

Tonight wasn't any other night.

"Normal people don't just buy burn phones when they're paranoid, they go internal." She's still standing, coat still fastened around her waist, and Emily doesn't know what to do.

"I mean, I get that you have a past, Emily, I do, but don't pull this classified shit on me. I need to know what's going on with you."

So, she gets her to sit, to wait. It's been five minutes and Emily still hasn't come out from her room. JJ takes her coat off, unpins her hair, goes back to regular JJ. Emily's JJ. She waits another minute before going in to check up on her. She finds her cross-legged in front of her bookcase, she's sorting through the files from the safe. "Emily…"

"I'm sorry, I—sit…" Emily sets the files on her bed and sits across from JJ. "Uh, JTF-12"

She tells her about Lauren Reynolds, about how much of her was (still is) Lauren Reynolds. How she'd proven herself to Doyle, gotten deep enough that she almost lost herself, almost lost Emily Prentiss over an op. How she fell in love with the boy, then the man. She couldn't confess to faking Declan's death, she couldn't get it out. She tells her everything she couldn't a year ago. JJ ends up standing before her sitting on the bed. She threads her fingers through her hair, holds her as she cries. "I'm sorry JJ, I didn't think I was coming back from it, I didn't know I'd end up—"

JJ stops her, "Em," she tilts her head up, making sure she's looking her in the eye, "You are Emily Prentiss, you are the same woman who came into the BAU with a passion and drive I never knew one person was capable of, you are the same woman who—who held my hand when I thought my best friend was going to die, who is so much to so many people, and nothing can change that. Nothing."

She says it with such conviction that Emily has to catch her breath. JJ drops her head forward, just meeting Emily's forehead as she brings a hand around to cup her jaw.

"You are Emily Prentiss, and I love you. Nothing can change that."

JJ tugs her up, feels the tears prick at her eyes as Emily's fingers weave into the hair at her nape. "Nothing," she whispers, reverent like a prayer, before Emily holds tighter.

"Nothing," she can't even hear it, just feels JJ's lips brush against hers, she's being tugged closer into the kiss. It's by no means chaste, but it's soft, solemn, and after a moment it's over. Neither of them move though, neither of them ready to break the fragile air.

For a minute they just breathe. JJ can feel Emily's lips on hers ever so slightly. She's whispering something, she thinks she knows what, but doesn't dare to ask. Emily pulls back, chews at her lip a moment, and sighs, "You should go, Henry must be missing him mum.", JJ swallows, "Yeah", and they untangle, fingertips ghosting against the other's as Emily shows her out, and with one small squeeze she's gone.

—

_"Am I in danger?"_

—

She'd kept the burner on her, shoved it in her back pocket as an after thought. When it rings she doesn't know what to do. She can't let it ring out, she knows.

There's only one person she gave the number to.

"Hey."

"Hey, I didn't think you'd pick up."

"Yeah, I—I'm dumping it. He knows where I am."

"We'll get him. I'll finish him myself if I have to."

—

She considers buying another phone, is a block away from a shady convenience store, but stops herself. To keep her family safe, she has to disappear, burn her bridges and leave nothing but ashes.


End file.
